Like Repels Like

Hirako Shinji sauntered over to the edge of the battlefield, stopping beside a slightly cleaner dirt slope.

It was neither too close nor too far from where Siwei Yan and Aizen Sōsuke stood—close enough to hear their conversation, yet not so close as to seem deliberate.

He let out a huge yawn, stretched lazily, then plopped down, folded his hands behind his head, and leaned back until he was half-reclining on the scorched ground.

Squinting, he watched the savage rift in the sky slowly being repaired by the Twelfth Division's techniques, humming a broken tune under his breath.

Only he knew that every sensory nerve in his body—especially his ears and the corners of his eyes—was firmly fixed on the two young Fifth Seats nearby.

Several Division Members who had just been "saved" by Yan Si and Aizen were gathered around them, their faces filled with the relief of surviving disaster, along with a little excitement at meeting "celebrities."

"Thank you so much this time, Fifth Seat Yan Si! Fifth Seat Aizen!"

"Fifth Seat Yan Si! M-my little brother is a huge fan of the stories you write. Could I ask for your autograph? Sign it on the inside of my bracer!"

"Fifth Seat Aizen, the handwriting you coached me on during the division's writing contest last time was even praised by the vice-captain! Could you teach me more next time?"

Listening to those grateful, enthusiastic voices, Hirako Shinji unconsciously ground his back teeth together, producing a faint creak.

Tch. They really were popular.

One relied on that cold face and his talent for making up stories; the other relied on that gentle mask and his flawlessly polished conduct. They had these simple-minded Division Members completely wrapped around their fingers.

Fine. Keep acting, the two of you.

The day I catch you slipping, I'll rip off those pretty masks, package you up, and toss you into the deepest level of The Abyss so you can be permanent neighbors!

He maliciously pictured the scene in his mind.

About ten minutes later, the Division Members who had finished expressing their gratitude and admiration were finally called back by their respective superiors, leaving only Siwei Yan and Aizen Sōsuke standing face-to-face.

Aizen broke the silence first.

He raised a hand and lightly adjusted the black-framed glasses on his nose. His eyes curved behind the lenses, and a mild smile bloomed across his face.

"It seems Brother Yan Si is even more respected among the Division Members than I imagined."

There was little change in Siwei Yan's expression as he answered in an even voice.

"You flatter me. Brother Aizen's rapid promotion is the real accomplishment. The position of Fifth Seat is likely only temporary for you; the vice-captain's seat must already be within reach. I envy you."

"You jest, Brother Yan Si." Aizen's smile showed not the slightest flaw, and his tone was humble to perfection.

"I have only come this far because Captain Hirako thought highly enough of me to grant me opportunities. With my own meager abilities alone, I do not know how long I would have had to struggle at the bottom."

As he spoke, his gaze naturally shifted away, slowly sweeping over the battlefield where the fighting had just ended.

Broken weapons, charred banners, soul particles that had not yet fully dispersed, and farther away, the bodies of soldiers from both sides being gathered.

At the proper moment, his voice took on a trace of sympathetic lament.

"War in the Human World is always so direct and cruel. So many lives vanish so easily. Perhaps many of them never truly understood why they wielded their blades, even until their final moments."

Yan Si's gaze also fell upon the scene. The lines of his profile looked somewhat cold and hard beneath the darkening sky.

He was silent for a moment before speaking, his voice still nearly devoid of emotion.

"Cruelty is a fact, but what carried them through to the end was likely something they deemed worthy of protecting with everything they had—their homeland, their lord, or simply the companions beside them."

"Oh? Is that how Brother Yan Si sees it?" Aizen tilted his head slightly toward Yan Si. The lenses reflected the faint light from the spiritual-particle repair devices around the rift, concealing the true emotion in his eyes.

"At the very least," Yan Si said calmly, "those warriors themselves likely fell while holding such convictions."

"A fair point." Aizen nodded lightly in agreement.

Then, as if making casual conversation, he naturally asked in a thoughtful tone,

"Then, in Brother Yan Si's view, could their lives be considered... not squandered?"

Yan Si paused for a little longer this time.

He watched a Thirteenth Division member in the distance perform a Soul Burial for a bewildered soldier's soul using the hilt of his Zanpakutō.

The soul bowed slightly, then turned into rising specks of light.

"If they continued walking the path they wholeheartedly believed in until the very end," Yan Si said, withdrawing his gaze, "then at least to themselves, that journey had meaning."

Not far away, Hirako Shinji, pretending to gaze up at the sky, felt his brow twitch several times.

These two Fifth Seat brats were discussing the meaning of life beside a battlefield littered with corpses?

They sounded as though they were discussing the human soldiers who had died in this war, but... something felt off.

Hirako Shinji's mind began spinning rapidly.

That fellow Yan Si's novel, The Killer of Meteor City.

On the surface, it was a fictional tale set in another world, but wasn't its underlying flavor a replica of the Rukon District, especially those chaotic areas farther out?

Using fiction to satirize reality and talking around the subject were that kid's usual tricks.

So this conversation, on the surface, lamented the emptiness and convictions behind human warfare. Underneath, they were probably alluding to Soul Society—to the state of existence of Shinigami like themselves!

At first glance, Aizen's words sympathized with the human soldiers' blindness. But upon reflection, was he implying that ordinary Division Members of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads were the same?

Driven by lofty banners like "maintaining balance" and "defending the Seireitei," they ran about and fought.

Perhaps many of them did not fully understand the intentions and struggles of those above them, even when they sacrificed themselves. They simply carried out orders loyally?

And Yan Si's reply seemed to defend those soldiers' "convictions," but was it actually expressing another view?

Even if that conviction had been instilled by those above, perhaps even polished or incomplete, so long as the person carrying it out sincerely accepted it and acted upon it—

Then for that individual, that "meaning" was real.

What exactly were they hiding beneath this topic of why human soldiers fought and whether it was worth it?

Was it a veiled questioning of the existing order? A reflection on their own positions?

Hirako Shinji felt his "kindred-spirit radar" buzzing, while his ears pricked up even straighter than before.

Just then, Aizen's voice drifted over on the wind again, but the topic suddenly took a turn beyond the battlefield.

"Still, speaking of which, it is interesting that neither side's army seems to have fully withdrawn.

Look at the faint banners beyond those hills—their 'king.'

At this moment, he is surely still seated safely far from the bloodshed, quietly observing the 'value' of these sacrifices."

Yan Si did not respond immediately.

He merely followed the direction Aizen had indicated and cast a cold glance at the outline of the distant hills. There truly were still tents and banners left behind, swaying faintly in the evening breeze.

There was still no expression on his face, making it impossible to tell what he thought of it.

Aizen seemed merely to be sharing an interesting observation in passing, without expecting an answer.

He immediately continued in that gentle tone.

"The Twelfth Division's technique seems to be working. The spatial rift is closing steadily. It seems we should be preparing to return to Soul Society soon as well."

Yet Aizen's remark that "the king still sat in a safe place observing" sent ripples of chill through Hirako Shinji's mind.

Observing? A safe place?

Was Aizen really only talking about the king of the Human World?

That "king," that "safe place," that "observing"... could they be referring to something else?

Could it be that Aizen himself had developed some interest in—or perhaps longing for—the position of sitting "in safety," "observing," and "judging"?

Overthrowing those above!

That thought made the little tune he had been pretending to hum pause for half a beat.

Beneath his golden bangs, his eyes—which always carried a lazy smile—narrowed slightly.