Surfacing

The next morning

Shin'ō Academy Advanced Class

When Kito Ryūji pushed open the classroom door, the three people inside were already seated.

Hachihachihara Kumayu lay sprawled on the table, chin resting on his crossed arms, Bored flipping through a textbook on Kidō arts. Rindō Yo the window, his notebook spread out on the table, pen nibbling lightly across the paper. Shimizu sat in his seat, his back ramrod straight.

Kito Ryūji walked to the front of the classroom and placed three printed forms in front of the three students respectively.

"This is the early graduation application form." His voice was hoarse, but his enunciation was clear. "The application deadline is before school ends tonight. If you want to graduate early, fill it out and hand it in to my office."

Yayoiwara straightened up and stared at the form in front of him for a long time. The form had the emblem of the Shin'ō Academy printed at the top, and below it were neatly printed columns for name, semester of enrollment, reason for application, and a column for comments requiring the instructor's signature.

Kito Ryūji didn't say anything more. He began today's lesson. The classroom quieted down, with only Ryuji's voice remaining, and the three of them would occasionally glance at the form in front of them.

Second Division Barracks, Lieutenant's Office.

"Marechiyo Ōmaeda, I'm here to report for duty!"

Marechiyo Ōmaeda looked up from the mountain of documents and saw Kou standing at the door, clutching the transfer order that Fon Shaoling had personally handed him yesterday. His Shihakusho was fairly neat.

"I already told you he's Lieutenant Marechiyo Ōmaeda, come in."

Marechiyo Ōmaeda put down the document he was halfway through reviewing and pointed to the chair in front of the table.

Hu sat down, his gaze unconsciously sweeping around the office:

Three of the four walls were occupied by filing cabinets, which were crammed with file folders and binders. Some cabinet doors could not be closed at all, and dense labels were visible in the half-open drawers. On Marechiyo Ōmaeda's desk, there were several stacks of documents, each stack categorized with different colored labels. Although it looked messy, everything had a fixed place.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda pulled out a piece of paper from the side; it was covered with dense writing.

"This is your job description. First, every morning, move the patrol reports submitted by each team the previous day from the Archive Room here and file them by area and time."

Secondly, every morning, check the previous day's personnel sign-in records at each patrol point to confirm whether there are any absences or abnormal rotations.

Finally, the weekly shift schedule will be distributed to each patrol team every Monday. Any temporary shift changes must be updated and the relevant team members notified on the same day.

He turned the paper over; there were words on the back.

"In addition, he assisted me in processing the Intelligence Corps's analysis reports—mainly through preliminary screening, removing obviously irrelevant information, and marking suspicious patterns."

Before the deputy Captains' Meeting, help me prepare the agenda and background materials. Also, at the end of each month, assist in taking inventory of the Patrol Corps's equipment stock, and promptly report any damage or loss.

The above is the daily work schedule.

He placed the paper on the table and pushed it towards Amber. Then he leaned back in his chair, interlaced his fingers on his stomach, and watched Amber engrossed in the densely packed work list. He abruptly asked, "By the way, how far along is your plan to rescue Rukia?"

"I just ran into Ichigo and the others yesterday, and I was planning to wait for them to enter..."

Hu suddenly realized that he had been tricked into saying something, and immediately covered his mouth.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda's chair creaked. "So, those Ryoka who stormed the Hakutōmon yesterday were indeed your friends."

Marechiyo Ōmaeda sighed.

"The reason given by Central 46 for rejecting the appeal is that the Kuchiki Clan's evidence is insufficient."

Marechiyo Ōmaeda, "But the real reason is that someone doesn't want this case to be investigated further. Rukia lending her Soul Reaper powers to humans in the World of the Living is a serious crime, but there have been exceptions. There have been examples of Soul Reaper cooperating with humans."

The key point is that someone wanted her dead so that the case could be closed as soon as possible. The specific reason is probably the infighting among the nobles, who were deliberately trying to embarrass the Kuchiki Clan.

"What else—"

"That's why I don't approve of you colluding with the Ryoka from the inside." Marechiyo Ōmaeda interrupted him, "If you just want to Rukia from the Senzaikyū, you can just find a few capable fighters to break in. But what happens after that? How do you plan to clean up the mess?"

He leaned forward. "You're a full-fledged soldier now. Once you're labeled as 'colluding with the Ryoka,' whether you succeed or not, you'll lose all your credibility."

Moreover, if Rukia were to be captured again, she would face an additional serious crime and certain death.

Therefore, I suggest you take another approach—win over the opponents, unite more captains and Lieutenant who do not support the execution, make things ugly, and the Central 46 will initiate forced mediation because of face-saving issues.

Many captains have been entangled in this kind of infighting; for them, if there's an opportunity to make the Central 46 unhappy, they'd be happy to get involved.

Hu recalled what Yin had said to him in front of the Hakutōmon yesterday. "But that's something the Central 46 is willing to mediate. What if they're not?"

"These guys are all cowards. They've done plenty of things to back down when things get ugly enough. Why wouldn't they want to mediate?"

"What if, by some chance, someone forced Central 46 to issue this verdict?"

"The Central 46 was forced? How can this be..." Marechiyo Ōmaeda's voice initially revealed a clear disdain, but then his hand stopped in mid-air.

He suddenly frowned—he remembered something he had inexplicably forgotten not long ago: a few days ago, after her investigation Cilian had asked him for the recent meeting minutes of the Central 46, as well as the frequency and time stamps of all government orders issued in recent months.

He had simply retrieved the data from the intelligence database and handed it over casually. Cilian didn't pursue the matter further, so he let it go. Now, he reopened the drawer, pulled out the copy of the record he had once given to Cilian, and began to read it.

The air in the office suddenly froze.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda's fingers traced the lines of notes on the paper, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

The last recorded instance of a member leaving the meeting room in Central 46 dates back a long time. Since that day, no member has appeared in any public setting. Meetings continue—and decrees are issued as usual, with the same frequency as before.

What's even more terrifying is that, as the Lieutenant of the Second Division, he handled these orders every day without noticing anything amiss for even a moment.

The entire Second Division's intelligence system operated day and night, yet not a single person mentioned even a single word like, "This isn't right."

This would be virtually impossible in any other situation. He knew the Second Division's intelligence capabilities better than anyone else; it was impossible for everyone to make such a basic mistake simultaneously. Unless—someone had made the entire Stealth Force overlook these anomalies.

Cold sweat began to seep from his back.

He put down the meeting minutes, pulled out a blank sheet of paper, his hand slightly unsteady, the handwriting more messy and hurried than usual, and listed out all the doubts he could recall one by one.

He stacked the record together with the paper listing the suspicious points, put it in an envelope, sealed it, wrote "Confidential" on the front of the envelope, and then handed it to Hu.

"Keep this safe first."

Hu took the envelope and asked, looking puzzled.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda did not answer Amber's question. He leaned back in his chair, rubbed his temples with his stubby fingers, and then reopened his eyes, his expression more solemn than Amber had ever seen before.

"Go and get your morning work done first—go to the Archive Room to get today's patrol reports, then check yesterday's sign-in records at each patrol point. Once you've finished that, it should be afternoon. Come back to report to me then."

As he spoke, he opened the third drawer on his left a crack, took out another blank record sheet, and began to briefly write down the sequence and timing of the tasks he would be undertaking from this moment on. Then he put the sheet, along with several supporting documents, into the third drawer, closed it, and paused his finger on the drawer handle for a moment.

"When you come to see me this afternoon, I'll ask you for this document." He pointed to the envelope in Hu's hand. "If I ask you for it then, give this to me."

But if I don't mention the envelope at all, or if I push it aside without opening it—you should proactively hand the envelope to me and tell me—"The third drawer on the left contains the relevant timeline and event schedule."

Amber looked down at the envelope in his hand, then at the unprecedentedly stern expression on Marechiyo Ōmaeda's round face. He didn't ask why, but carefully tucked the envelope inside the lapel of his Shihakusho.

"I've got it."

Marechiyo Ōmaeda nodded and said nothing more. Kou left the office, closing the door behind him.

Afternoon

Hu walked back into the Lieutenant's office with the work documents he had prepared that morning and the envelope.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda was sitting behind his desk reviewing documents when he saw Amber enter. He looked up. "Is the patrol report filed?"

"They're all filed." Hu placed the documents on the table.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda flipped through the envelopes and nodded. "Oh, right, give me the envelope I gave you earlier."

Amber handed over the envelope, watching Marechiyo Ōmaeda's reaction. Marechiyo Ōmaeda casually placed the envelope on the corner of the table, under another folder, and continued reviewing the documents in his hand, showing no intention of opening it. "The afternoon's work schedule is—"

"Lieutenant," Hu suddenly spoke.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda looked up, somewhat surprised that Hiro had suddenly called him Lieutenant.

"You told me this morning that if you didn't open this envelope this afternoon, I would need to remind you—" He pointed to the third drawer on Marechiyo Ōmaeda's left.

Marechiyo Ōmaeda's eyes widened slightly as a hazy, fragmented memory surfaced, piecing together like pieces. He seemed to have indeed said something back then—what was he talking about?

"Since you've called me Lieutenant, I'll take a look." He opened the third drawer on the left and took out the record sheet inside, which was filled with a timeline of the morning and his own handwritten notes.

He skimmed through the letter, his expression suddenly changed, and he abruptly tore open the envelope, took out the paper from that morning containing all his speculations, and compared it line by line with the record sheet—

He was almost certain: this wasn't a mistake on the job; the entire Second Division, everyone who handled this data, had simultaneously and imperceptibly overlooked something that was clearly glaringly obvious.

Someone has used some means to shroud the entire Stealth Force, continuously influencing everyone's perception of specific information!

A cold smile appeared on Marechiyo Ōmaeda's face, which was covered in cold sweat.

"Amber, you were right! This isn't some kind of infighting among nobles; the problem lies with the Central 46 themselves!"

He took a new form from the drawer and rewrote all the doubts he had listed that morning onto a new sheet of paper. His handwriting was much calmer than before. He put one of the forms in a separate envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Hu.

"The situation has changed. Contact with the Ryoka is still necessary. If you have the chance to see them again, remember to tell them— Rukia's matter is far more complicated than it seems. Something big is about to happen in Seireitei; be prepared to forcibly intervene."

As he spoke, he looked up from his previous timeline notes and locked the other document and the original copy he had just finished writing back into the third drawer on his left.

"From now on, every morning when you report for duty, you'll do the same as today, confirming whether I remember anything from before." He pointed to the envelope in Hu's hand. "Don't look at the information, and don't leak it. Maintaining as much ignorance as possible will help preserve the intelligence."

Hu nodded and carefully tucked the envelope inside the lapel of his Shihakusho.

In the evening, at the college's academic affairs office.

Kito Ryūji sat behind the desk.

Just then, footsteps came from outside the door. A teacher who was about to leave work passed by the door, saw that the light was still on inside, and peeked halfway in.

"Mr. Ryuji, you haven't left yet? Are you still preparing lesson plans? No wonder you were able to cultivate a Supernova who is unprecedented and will never be repeated."

Kito Ryūji didn't look up. "Amber's growth has nothing to do with me."

The teacher smiled and waved his hand. "You're just too modest." Then he disappeared at the end of the corridor.

The office fell silent again, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind outside the window.

Kito Ryūji looked at the three early graduation application forms spread out in front of him. "I didn't provide much help with Amber's growth, but these three are a different story..."

Shimizu, Yayoiwara, Rindō Yo —all three of them handed in their forms before school ended today.

He picked up a pen and signed his name in the teacher feedback section one by one. After signing the third form, he leaned back in his chair, looked at the three neat forms on the table, and a slow smile curved his lips.

"Kids, good luck on your early graduation test..."

He neatly folded the application form he had just signed and put it in the drawer, then stood up and reached out to turn off the light above his head.

That evening, Hu finished work and returned to his dormitory.

He reached out and pushed open the dormitory door. Before he could even touch the light on the wall, he saw someone sitting on the balcony, leaning against the door frame. The person had a signature head of silver hair that shone faintly in the moonlight. He was holding a bottle of bamboo wine and drinking it by himself while looking at the moon.

"Brother Yin?"

Gin Ichimaru turned his head. The moonlight shone on his face and on the persimmon-colored bracelet. He smiled and shook the sake bottle toward Amber, the bamboo sake making a clear, sloshing sound inside.

"Xiao Hu, how was your day?"