Each One's Resolve

The door closed softly behind Cilian.

The study fell quiet again, with only the rustling of bamboo leaves outside and the occasional soft sound of the wind stirring the papers on the desk.

Her gaze settled on the open report, on those few lines of figures. Sunlight filtered through the bamboo blinds, casting shifting patches of light and shadow across her face, as though something were flowing silently.

She leaned back slightly against her chair.

Her fingers were still tapping on the desk.

Again and again.

A hundred years ago...

She closed her eyes, and the files she had read countless times appeared before her again—

Shinji Hirako, former Fifth Division Captain.

Kensei Muguruma, former Captain of the Ninth Division.

Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi, former Third Division Captain.

Love Aikawa, former Captain of the Seventh Division.

Three lieutenants, and one vice chief of the Kidō Corps.

And Kisuke Urahara, and... Yoruichi.

That, too, had begun with the "Soul Disappearance Incident."

Then, too, residents had unknowingly turned into Hollows.

Fon Shaoling opened her eyes, the light from outside reflected in her golden pupils.

But this time was different.

"Heh heh..."

The corner of her mouth twitched, as if in mockery, or as if something long suppressed had finally found an outlet.

A hundred years ago, they had acted too quickly.

Central 46 had reacted absurdly quickly, and Aizen had gathered evidence absurdly quickly. The entire incident had gone from outbreak to verdict so fast that Yoruichi and Urahara had never had a chance to defend themselves. By the time she had realized what was happening, the two of them had already fled to the World of the Living with a group of Hollowfied captains.

So fast that... she had not even had a chance to ask why.

Fon Shaoling's fingers stopped tapping.

But what about this time?

She picked up the report, looking at the messy handwriting and the figures: "137 captured, 27 survived."

One hundred and thirty-seven.

The Garganta had remained open for more than six hours, and the number of Hollows pouring out had far exceeded the normal range. By the time the Onmitsukidō arrived, residents had already been transformed.

The corner of Fon Shaoling's mouth twitched again:

They wanted to open a Garganta to draw attention while secretly transforming residents. Not a bad idea, but the execution was terrible. Even the current Gotei 13 needs precise instruments to reliably control the opening and closing of a Garganta, let alone do it without anyone noticing while releasing a certain number of Hollows. They really were too clever for their own good.

It seems that when what happened a hundred years ago came to light, even though Urahara took the blame, whoever was behind it still knew to exercise restraint. After lying low for a hundred years, they acted again, and knew to cover their tracks. But...

They left the Garganta open for so long that it was as if they were afraid no one would know something was wrong here. The most ridiculous thing is—

She set down the report and looked at the cloth bundle Cilian had left behind:

The residents who were transformed into Hollows leave their clothes behind when they die. They can't hide that flaw.

Fon Shaoling gave a soft laugh, so quiet that only she could hear it. But what lay in that laugh was heavy.

The matter Yoruichi and Urahara had failed to resolve together a hundred years ago.

The matter that had forced Yoruichi to flee Soul Society a hundred years ago.

This time, she would resolve it!

Fon Shaoling stood, walked to the window, and pushed it open.

Sunlight streamed in, carrying the fresh scent of bamboo leaves. She stood in the light, her long, dark-purple hair lifted by the wind, her golden eyes fixed on the bamboo grove in the distance.

Yoruichi, watch me.

This time, I won't let anyone escape.

I won't let the person behind this escape, and I won't let the truth escape—nor will I give you another chance to look at me like that, as if you were looking at a child who needed protecting.

I'm no longer the companion who could only follow behind you.

I'm Soi Fon now.

I'm the Commander-in-Chief of the Stealth Force and the captain of the Second Division. The Second Division and I are no longer what we were in your time!

Besides...

Fon Shaoling's thoughts suddenly paused.

She thought of someone.

The guy who had stood in front of her that morning.

Yexing Hu.

"Separating Hollows from Pluses..."

She spoke the words softly, the curve of her mouth softening a little.

"That idiot still hasn't figured out what his own ability means. 'Save whoever I can'—he said it so easily, without realizing just how many more souls his ability could save."

A hundred years ago, if someone had possessed an ability like that...

She did not pursue the thought.

It no longer mattered.

What mattered was that this person was here with her now.

Fon Shaoling turned and walked back behind her desk, where she sat down. She picked up a brush and wrote a few lines on a blank sheet of paper, then gently rang the bell on the desk.

A moment later, the door opened.

Sakiro entered and bowed slightly before her.

"Chief."

Fon Shaoling looked up at her.

"Hu's Shunpo training will continue this afternoon."

Sakiro nodded.

"One more thing." Fon Shaoling's tone was even. "There are only two days left until the 'movement' assessment. He must pass."

Sakiro raised her head and looked at her.

"You mean..."

"I mean," Fon Shaoling said, looking at her, "whatever method you use, get him across those 300 meters within the next two days."

Sakiro bowed slightly.

"Understood."

She turned and left.

The study door closed again.

Fon Shaoling lowered her head and continued writing something on the paper.

It was an application to Shin'ō Academy.

A request to borrow Kidō training equipment.

She would use the best facilities to give that idiot his first lesson.

Afternoon—the training ground

Hu thought he might die here today. That was no exaggeration. He really might die.

He stood on a wooden post, his calves already trembling. Another post stood fifty meters ahead, with more beyond it, one after another, stretching for dozens of meters before finally disappearing at the edge of his vision.

"Shunpo."

Sakiro's voice came from behind him, utterly flat.

Hu took a deep breath, concentrated Reishi in his legs, and stepped forward—

He landed on the second post.

The moment his feet touched its surface, the Reishi detector on the post lit up, displaying a figure: 53 m.

Sakiro had appeared beside him at some point, holding a notebook and recording something.

"Fifty-three meters," she said. "Continue."

Hu gritted his teeth and stepped forward again.

This time, he reached the third post, and the distance changed to 78 m.

"Seventy-eight meters."

The fourth: 112 m.

The fifth: 147 m.

The sixth—

As soon as Hu's feet landed on the post, he swayed. This post was thinner than the previous ones, leaving him a pitifully small foothold, and he nearly fell straight off.

"Steady."

Sakiro's voice came from behind him, as calm as if she were commenting on the nice weather.

Hu finally steadied himself, but before he could catch his breath, he heard her say:

"Go back."

Hu froze.

"What?"

Sakiro stood a short distance behind him, turning a page in her notebook.

"Your footing was unsteady, and you took too long to adjust your posture. Start over! Use Shunpo to go back one post at a time. If you fall or skip a post, you'll do extra training!"

Hu looked at the remaining posts ahead, then looked behind him.

Back to the starting point from here...

He took a deep breath, concentrated Reishi in his legs, and stepped forward—

He landed on the post at the starting point, the soles of his feet tingling.

Sakiro made a note in her notebook.

"Twenty-eight meters per post," she said. "Begin."

Hu: "..."

Before he could say anything, Sakiro had already used Shunpo to reach the other end of the training ground, where she stood on a new post. It was thinner than any he had stood on before, as thin as a spike.

"Come here," she said. "Thirty meters."

Hu looked at the spike-like post beneath her feet and swallowed. "Um... Instructor Sakiro..."

"Thirty meters."

Hu shut up.

He took a deep breath, concentrated Reishi in his legs, and then—

Stepped forward.

This time, the instant he landed on the post, his feet slipped. The spike-like post offered no foothold at all. His feet slid off as soon as they touched the surface, and he toppled to one side—

Then a hand caught him by the collar.

Sakiro had appeared beside him at some point, holding him up with one hand and her notebook in the other.

"Your center of gravity was too high," she said. "Bend your knees when you land, and keep your Reiatsu steady. Again."

She let go and used Shunpo to return to her original position.

Hu stood on the spike-like post, his calves trembling even harder.

But this time, he held steady.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward again—

Thirty meters.

When he landed on the next post, his feet held steady.

Sakiro made a note in her notebook.

"Thirty meters," she said. "Continue."

Hu did not know how he made it through the afternoon.

One post after another, the distances grew longer and the posts grew thinner. Sometimes he went left, sometimes right, and sometimes back and forth, using Shunpo to travel from one post to another and back again, the distance between them increasing little by little.

Twenty meters, thirty meters, forty meters—

His legs no longer felt like his own.

Toward evening, Sakiro recorded the figures one last time. "Maximum distance: two hundred and forty-seven meters." She closed her notebook and looked at him. "We'll continue tomorrow."

Hu dropped onto the post and sat there, gasping for breath.

Sakiro glanced at him and, unusually, added, "If all goes well, you can reach three hundred meters tomorrow."

Then she left with Shunpo.

Hu sat alone on the post, watching the sun sink little by little, and suddenly felt like laughing.

Tomorrow... I should be able to do it, right?

He stood up, stretched his aching legs, jumped down from the post, and headed for his room.

By the time Hu returned to his room, the sky was completely dark.

He washed up quickly and threw himself onto the bed. Before he could even put Jiku'a away properly, he closed his eyes.

So tired.

He felt as though someone had picked him up and swung him around the training ground all afternoon, but the results were obvious too.

And then there's... Kidō training.

What exactly was that "surprise" Fon Shaoling mentioned...?

His consciousness began to blur.

Just then—

The door slid open.

Hu's eyes flew open, and he instinctively reached for Jiku'a.

Then he saw Cilian standing in the doorway, watching him with an expressionless face.

Hu: "..."

Cilian said nothing.

He simply stood in the doorway, looking at Hu.

Hu grew uneasy under his gaze.

"Instructor Cilian... is something wrong?"

Cilian looked at him and finally spoke.

"Zanjutsu meditation."

Hu froze for a moment.

"What?"

"Zanjutsu meditation," Cilian repeated. "You've already passed the 'cutting' assessment, but you can't stop practicing Zanjutsu meditation. You must do it every day and keep at it."

Hu opened his mouth.

"Well... I'm too tired today..."

"Tired?" Cilian narrowed his one eye slightly. "What is the Shikai release command for your Zanpakuto, Jiku'a?"

"...'Break free of the cage and soar on outstretched wings.'"

"Break free of the cage." Cilian repeated the words. "How can a bird do that if it never thinks to strengthen its own wings?"

Hu froze.

Cilian said nothing more.

He simply stood in the doorway, his one eye fixed on Hu.

Hu's scalp prickled under his stare.

"Um... Instructor Cilian..."

Cilian still said nothing.

He merely raised a hand slowly and gripped the edge of the door—

Then pulled it shut, bit by bit.

The gap grew narrower and narrower, his one eye fixed on Hu until the last sliver disappeared.

Click.

The door closed.

Hu stared at the door, unable to recover for a long while.

Then he sighed, shook his head, sat up and took Jiku'a, laying it across his lap:

Fine, Zanjutsu meditation it is. But let me make this clear: I'm definitely not doing this because I was scared. I just want to get stronger faster.

He closed his eyes and began regulating his breathing.

Outside the door, Cilian stood where he was, listening to the fluctuations of Reishi coming from the room. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Then he turned and walked down the corridor...

By the time Cilian returned to his room, it was already deep into the night. He did not light a lamp, but sat in the darkness, his one eye gazing at the moonlight outside the window.

In four hundred years, he had seen too much.

He had seen the Fon Clan rise and fall, seen its heads come and go, and seen the little girl called "Shaoling" go from a child who followed Yoruichi around to the person she was today, one step at a time.

Soi Fon.

Commander-in-Chief of the Stealth Force.

Captain of the Second Division.

She thought she hid it well. She thought no one could see those little thoughts of hers.

But Cilian had weathered four hundred years of storms. What could he not see?

She wanted to prove she was stronger than Yoruichi. She wanted to resolve what Yoruichi had failed to resolve. She wanted the person who had run away to know that she was no longer the child who needed protection.

Cilian sighed softly to himself.

And who was Captain Yoruichi? She was the princess of the Shihoin Clan, the former Second Division Captain, and the former Commander-in-Chief of the Stealth Force. How could something she had failed to resolve back then be a small matter?

He lowered his head and looked at his right arm. There was nothing there; his empty sleeve hung down. He raised a hand and touched his left eye, which had been blind for decades.

In four hundred years with the Onmitsukidō, he had charged into battle alongside generations of Fon Clan heads. The scars covering his body were his military honors. Because long expeditions to Hueco Mundo had delayed his treatment, even the Fourth Division had been unable to reattach his arm, and he had no idea which Hollow had eaten his eye. He had grown accustomed to living with one eye and one arm...

But now—

Cilian's one eye turned toward a box on the table.

The box was small and square, with the Twelfth Division's insignia printed on it. A label beside it bore the words:

"Experimental Potent Flesh Supplement · Prototype"

Below that was another line in small print:

"A single injection can completely regenerate severed limbs and organs in a short time. Side effect: severe pain."

Cilian looked at the box, a flicker of complicated emotion passing through his one eye.

He had brought it out of Seireitei when the commander had ordered him to take time off to recuperate. It was the Twelfth Division Captain's latest work, theoretically capable of regrowing a person's severed limbs in seconds, and they were looking for volunteers to test it. But the pain after injection was said to be even worse than losing the limb itself, so it had yet to pass safety testing and be officially issued.

As Cilian was leaving Seireitei, several Twelfth Division members looking for test subjects had pestered him relentlessly, saying they only needed one more person and asking him to do them a favor, until he grew impatient and accepted the box.

At the time, he had simply put it away. But now, as he looked at the box, the image of Fon Shaoling in the study earlier came to mind.

That look in her eyes.

That tone.

What was she going to face?

Was it the thing behind the incident a hundred years ago? Was it the thing that even Captain Yoruichi and Captain Urahara had failed to deal with together? Did she really think she could deal with it alone this time?

Cilian reached out and gently ran his hand over the box.

If he could get his right arm back.

If he could get his left eye back.

If he could return to his prime—

Cilian narrowed his one eye slightly.

That side effect... severe pain.

He had lived for hundreds of years. What pain had he not endured?

Cilian's fingers lingered on the box for a long time.

Moonlight streamed through the window, falling on his face, on his one eye, and on his empty right sleeve.

He did not move again.

He simply sat there, looking at the box.

For a very, very long time.

"Only one child remains in this generation of the Fon Clan. I don't want to hear anyone entrust her to my care again!"