Sheathe Your Blade, Brother

"Excellent."

Watching the Hōgyoku in his hand react violently, Aizen's tightly furrowed brow finally relaxed.

"To think it would produce a reaction of this magnitude. It seems we have taken another step toward the finish line. Shizuya-kun, Tōsen, this is truly a day worth celebrating."

Aizen's excitement was plainly visible.

As usual, Tōsen expressed his respectful attitude and offered a few words of congratulations.

By comparison,

Arima Shizuya's reaction was rather subdued—because all his attention was on the figure lying on the ground.

Orange, shoulder-length short hair, with a small beauty mark at the corner of her mouth.

Dressed in a pale green kimono, she had curled herself up like an injured rodent.

Lying on her side, her mouth half-open, she kept drawing breath as though an invisible suffocating force had enveloped her.

Matsumoto Rangiku.

Compared to her image in the original work, Matsumoto Rangiku at this point had none of that 'sultry' appeal.

At most, she was simply a rather delicate-looking woman.

Perhaps it was because she had yet to show off those two massive assets? Either way, Arima Shizuya was not particularly interested in characters who relied so heavily on fanservice.

Besides, he had no intention of breaking up couples...

Things like the relationship between Yoruichi and Kisuke Urahara, or Rangiku and Gin—those were the sorts of things Arima Shizuya rather appreciated.

When it came to such matters, everyone had different tastes. There was no forcing it~

Arima Shizuya calmly watched the Hōgyoku in Aizen's hand begin to 'boil,' corresponding information surfacing in his mind.

Though he had never read any related spin-off novels or audio dramas, thanks to the power of hearsay among the fan community,

Arima Shizuya had learned that a fragment of the Soul King's fingertip remained within Matsumoto Rangiku.

All he could say was that the king of corpse chunks was treasure from head to toe.

Research, daily life, cultivation... nothing could be done without him.

As he mused, Arima Shizuya withdrew his gaze. Although part of Matsumoto Rangiku's soul had been extracted, it was still not enough to threaten her life.

That said, if they simply left her here, Hollows prowling at night or groups causing trouble could easily take her life.

But this guy was probably an exception.

After all, a little brat was still watching them from afar, showing no sign of leaving.

Perhaps because he felt he was far enough away, he had not deliberately concealed his figure...

Short pale-purple hair, a thin and gaunt frame.

At a glance, he looked like some pitiful soul who lacked both food and clothing.

Hidden around several dozen meters away, at the corner of a street, he peered this way as cautiously as a timid, anxious coyote.

Ichimaru Gin.

Was it because the environment was too harsh...? He looked so thin and small, like a child who had yet to grow up.

Still, recalling that dry, bony physique from the original work, Arima Shizuya quickly accepted it.

But then again, this guy's vigilance was seriously lacking.

His killing intent was showing.

It was faint and restrained, but that viper-like sense of lurking was sharp and prickling.

It really drew one's attention.

Considering the relationship between Matsumoto Rangiku and Ichimaru Gin, it was perfectly normal for him to bear a grudge at this moment.

If not for reclaiming what had 'originally belonged to' Rangiku, this slender man would never have conceived the idea of becoming a Shinigami.

The most perceptive among them, Tōsen, had already silently turned his head. His right hand was half-raised, brushing against the hilt of his sword.

Huh? Wait... was he planning to attack already?

Arima Shizuya froze for a moment. If Tōsen made a move now, how could Ichimaru Gin possibly survive? So how had this played out in the original story? His thoughts raced, but Arima Shizuya quickly reacted. He shifted half a step to the side and lightly stopped Tōsen Kaname's movement.

"...?"

What are you doing? Blind Bro turned his face this way in confusion.

Arima Shizuya remained silent, applying a little more pressure.

Sheathe your blade, brother.

The boss could not possibly have failed to notice that hostility.

Since the original plot had proceeded as it did, it meant Aizen was not particularly concerned with other people's thoughts at this time... perhaps he simply did not care about such things at all.

The resentment of ants meant nothing to him.

Sure enough.

"Shizuya-kun, Tōsen, let us go."

Aizen spoke lightly as he returned the Hōgyoku to his robes.

The little 'incident' seemed to have had no effect whatsoever on his mood.

Watching the boss take the lead without another word,

Tōsen behind him fell silent for a moment, released the sword hilt he had been gripping, and gently patted Arima Shizuya on the shoulder.

"It seems you understand Lord Aizen better than I do."

"...?"

How did that turn into a compliment for me...?

Shaking his head helplessly, Arima Shizuya was about to leave when he paused in place for a moment.

It was not because he had suddenly considered silencing him.

After all, as an early ally, Ichimaru Gin was also a rather necessary person to have around.

As for what came afterward...

Arima Shizuya did not think he would lose to this literal 'genius,' especially when he had preparations in every respect.

The future was already a mass of chaos, so as long as circumstances allowed, it was better not to make unnecessary changes.

After some thought,

he ultimately chose to crouch down, take out a small cloth pouch, and place it beside Rangiku.

The woman's eyes were slightly unfocused as their gazes met.

Arima Shizuya gave an awkward smile.

"Sorry. Think of it as a little compensation..."

Then Arima Shizuya swiftly stood and caught up with the other two.

With Aizen Company's team-building activity over, Ichimaru Gin finally jogged over from the distance.

"Rangiku, how are you?!"

Checking her condition, her breathing... Ichimaru Gin finally let out a breath of relief.

No matter what, keeping her alive was the best possible news.

As Matsumoto Rangiku weakly opened her eyes, Ichimaru Gin pressed his lips into a thin line.

Just like his Zanpakuto, Shinso.

A blade that could freely extend and retract, thrusting and withdrawing—its ability to remain contained and unexpressed, only to unleash extraordinary force when needed, was precisely where its strength lay.

Who had attacked her? And who were the two people at his sides? He understood nothing, knew nothing. Even if Rangiku had died on the spot, Ichimaru Gin could only swallow his rage...

He needed power.

The thought was like ink dropped into clear water, rapidly spreading outward.

As for the pouch that person had left behind... though he disdained the man's charity, at Rangiku's instruction, he still opened it.

Inside were nearly half a pouch of 'rings.'

This was a special currency unique to Soul Society. Not only could it be used as a medium of exchange, it also served as an energy source.

By nature, it was something both edible and useful.

In Slum Street, where bartering was commonplace, there was no need to emphasize how valuable such a thing was.

Ichimaru Gin instinctively tightened the pouch and tucked it into Rangiku's arms.

He looked up toward the direction where the three had vanished, his brow drawing tightly together.

That guy...

What exactly was he thinking?