At this moment, Shimura Kazumi stood with her arms folded, chin slightly raised, her fair profile strikingly beautiful.
Her long purple hair swayed at her waist in the wind. Her gaze remained fixed on the figure seated upon the stone throne above, her eyes slightly unfocused.
As she watched him now—dignified, mature, and brimming with vigor—memories of when they had first met surfaced unbidden in Kazumi's mind.
Whenever she thought of that young man who had always worn a calm smile, Kazumi could not help comparing him to the Aizen of today.
Yet the result was... both of them captivated her deeply...
At that thought, a faint flush rose to Kazumi's fair cheeks. Though she was no longer young, at this moment, she was still like that willful girl from back then, her heart ever occupied by that figure.
To be able to stay by his side... to help him in whatever way she could... that was the entire meaning of her existence...
That was what Kazumi thought. And just as that thought crossed her mind, not far away—
Within the Akatsuki's ranks, a figure covered in pitcher plants peered through the gaps between them at Aizen on the stone throne above.
Beside him, Obito, wearing a spiral mask, also stared calmly at Aizen through the eyehole.
"Who would've thought... even Nagato and the others had chosen to join Las Noches so early... No, it should be called the Hollow Spirit Empire now..."
At that moment, White Zetsu within the pitcher plants glanced lightly toward Black Zetsu on the other side and spoke casually.
Hearing him, Black Zetsu remained silent, his reddish-yellow eyes fixed firmly on Aizen above.
Obito beside them glanced at him and said in a low, hoarse voice.
"What we should be thinking about now is what