Departure

First Division Central Hall

This was Shuichi's first time entering this room.

The main hall was already large enough, but the Central Hall was three times larger.

The towering dome was painted with the flowers of the Gotei 13, from the chrysanthemum of the First Division to the hosta of the Thirteenth Division. Thirteen kinds of flowers stood in a row across the pale gold ceiling, their branches and leaves intertwined.

A huge map of the Seireitei hung on the front wall, occupying nearly the entire wall.

The map marked the eighty districts of Rukongai with vermilion lines. In all four directions—east, south, west, and north—every line was drawn perfectly straight.

The walls on either side were bare, nothing but stark white.

The Gotei 13 had only been established for a few decades. There were no "successive generations" to speak of yet.

At the center of the hall, Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto stood before the map, both hands resting on Ryujin Jakka. The tip of its sheath lightly touched the floor.

Chōjirō Sasakibe stood to Yamamoto's right, while Shuichi stood to his left.

Shuichi stood half a step behind Chōjirō. When Chōjirō had walked ahead, he had naturally left Shuichi half a step behind him.

The twelve captains entered in two columns.

Shihōin Qianri walked at the front. Dark-skinned and silver-haired, with short hair and crisp, decisive steps, he took the first position on the left and turned sideways.

Yanyuan Jinle followed behind him. His hair was slicked back, gray glasses on his face, his expression blank. He stopped beside Qianri.

Chikiri Shijima walked very slowly. His long gray-white hair draped over his shoulders, heavy bags hung beneath his eyes, and he was hunched over. He was the captain of the Fourth Division.

Danjiro Obana strode in with great strides, his full beard and blue attire standing out. He took his place beside Shijima and folded his arms across his chest.

Furoufushi Saito skipped in, her long purple hair tied into twin ponytails and a black eyepatch over one eye. She stopped beside Obana, tilted her head, and glanced toward Shuichi.

Nobutsuna Shigyo walked with steady, powerful steps. His short black hair was wrapped beneath a headscarf, his hands were blackened, and thick fur circled his neck. He stopped opposite Qianri, exhaling a puff of white breath, though the Central Hall was not cold.

Bakuzan Katori adjusted her thick-framed glasses, her braid swaying lightly behind her. She was not tall, and she took her place beside Shigyo.

Entetsu Kumenoi was bald, broad-built, and had gold teeth. He stopped beside Katori.

Wang Tuchuan Yuxuji's long black hair was tied behind his head, and his face bore no expression. He stopped beside Kumenoi, his hands hanging at his sides, utterly still.

Yachiru Unohana's long straight black hair fell over her shoulders. She took her place beside Wang Tuchuan, one hand resting on her sword hilt.

Zenteiji Yūbin was the last captain on the left to enter. Huge and powerfully built, he had a red U-shaped marking on his face and two thin braids atop his head. He stopped beside Unohana.

Saizo Sakigane looked emaciated, bent-backed, and covered in wrinkles. He appeared even older than Yamamoto. Leaning on his wooden-hilted Zanpakutō, he walked in step by step, then stopped beside Zenteiji Yūbin with both hands resting on his sword.

Twelve captains stood in two rows.

The doors of the Central Hall slowly closed.

Yamamoto spoke.

His voice was not loud, but it echoed through the empty hall. Every word was crystal clear.

"Central 46 has passed a resolution. The Quincy's large-scale activities in Rukongai have seriously threatened the stability of Soul Society. The Gotei 13 has been ordered to eradicate them."

He turned toward the map and lightly raised Ryujin Jakka. The tip of its sheath pointed at different regions on the map.

"Thirteenth Division, maintain the Hollow-cleansing operations in the World of the Living and Soul Society. Your current assignments remain unchanged, but patrol frequency must increase. The loss of Reishi from Hollows in the World of the Living being destroyed by Quincies cannot be allowed to worsen."

Saizo Sakigane opened his eyes and nodded.

"Twelfth Division, remain behind to assist in defending the Seireitei. Zenteiji, your Twelfth Division will be responsible for communications and Reiatsu monitoring. There can be no mistakes in the Seireitei's daily defenses or communications between divisions."

Zenteiji Yūbin answered in a deep voice.

"Yes."

Yamamoto's sheath pointed toward the southern part of the map.

"Eleventh Division, clear the areas beyond South Eightieth District. Unohana, lead the Eleventh Division deep beyond South Eightieth District. Return within one month."

Yachiru Unohana gave a slight nod.

"Tenth Division, clear the areas beyond East Eightieth District. Wang Tuchuan, return within one month."

Wang Tuchuan Yuxuji gave a brief response.

"Yes."

"Ninth Division, clear the areas beyond North Eightieth District. Kumenoi, return within one month."

Entetsu Kumenoi smiled.

"Understood."

"Eighth Division, clear the areas beyond West Eightieth District. Katori, return within one month."

Bakuzan Katori adjusted her glasses and gave a light nod.

Yamamoto drew back his sheath and pointed it at the inner ring of Rukongai on the map.

"Seventh Division will take responsibility for the southern eighty districts. Sixth Division, the eastern eighty districts. Fifth Division, the northern eighty districts. Fourth Division, the western eighty districts. Clear them district by district. Leave no blind spots. Within one month, there must be no Quincy activity anywhere within Rukongai's eighty districts."

Nobutsuna Shigyo, Furoufushi Saito, Danjiro Obana, and Chikiri Shijima answered in turn.

Yamamoto turned to face Shihōin Qianri and Yanyuan Jinle.

"Third Division and Second Division will handle the World of the Living. Yan Yuan, your Third Division will clear the Quincies in the east. Qianri, your Second Division will clear the Quincies in the west. Quincy activity in the World of the Living is no less widespread than in Rukongai, and it is more concealed. I do not care what methods you use—drive them out, detain them, kill them. Within one month, Quincy activity in the World of the Living must cease."

Yanyuan Jinle adjusted his glasses.

Shihōin Qianri nodded. "Yes."

Yamamoto lowered Ryujin Jakka, and the tip of its sheath touched the floor again.

Then he turned his head and looked at Shuichi.

"Shuichi."

"Here."

"According to our intelligence, the Quincies came from the west. Take the formal members of the First Division and part of the Noble Armed Forces deep westward. Find their base. Do not engage them. Return once you have determined its location. Be back within one month."

Shuichi froze for a moment.

Lead a team deep into the west and locate the Quincy base.

He glanced at Chōjirō, whose expression did not change at all.

"Chōjirō will go with you," Yamamoto added.

"Yes."

Yamamoto's gaze swept across the twelve captains before finally settling on the enormous map.

"One month. I do not care what methods you use. One month from now, Quincy activity in Rukongai and the World of the Living must cease."

He paused.

"Dismissed!"

The captains saluted Yamamoto in turn, then turned and walked out of the Central Hall. Their footsteps echoed through the empty hall, going from dense to sparse, from loud to faint.

Twelve captains. Twelve directions. One month. Rukongai, the World of the Living, and the west.

Chōjirō came over from the right and stood beside him.

"Go back and prepare. We depart tomorrow at dawn."

Shuichi nodded.

He turned and walked toward the exit of the Central Hall. At the doorway, he stopped and looked back.

...The next day, West Gate

Shuichi had been waiting at the West Gate for a long time.

Hakudo Gate was the only exit on the western side of the Seireitei. Tall stone pillars rose on either side, and ancient Reishi patterns were carved into the lintel, glowing faint blue in the morning light. Beyond the gate, a stone road stretched westward through West District One and dozens of Rukongai districts, all the way to uninhabited lands.

Chōjirō stood beside a gate pillar, arms folded and eyes closed as though resting. Shuichi stood half a step behind him, the Zanpakutō at his waist swaying gently in the morning breeze. Dawn had only recently broken, the air was cold, and a thin layer of dew still covered the stone road.

They waited for nearly half an hour.

The first group arrived.

Two men in formal black attire emerged from inside Hakudo Gate, followed by around twenty young people dressed as lower-ranking nobles. Their armor was neat, their sword sheaths all of the same design. Their steps were not perfectly synchronized, but at least they were not lax. The leading man walked up to Chōjirō and gave a slight bow.

"Kuchiki Clan. Hiro Kuchiki."

He pointed to the man beside him. "Kohei Kuchiki. The clan head ordered us to lead the lower-ranking Noble Armed Forces into battle."

Chōjirō opened his eyes and looked at them. "Where are your Zanpakutō?"

Hiro Kuchiki fell silent for a moment. "Branch families do not possess Zanpakutō. But these swords were specially forged by the Kasumioji Clan. They are no worse than Zanpakutō."

Chōjirō did not press the matter. Shuichi stood behind him, examining the equipment of the twenty or so people. It was indeed impressive. The patterns on their armor were the Kuchiki Clan crest, the bronze fittings on their sheaths polished bright, and each of them carried a Reishi Communicator at their waist. Even if the Kuchiki Clan had sent only a branch family, their equipment would not be shabby.

But no one from the main family had come.

Chōjirō had clearly noticed as well, but he said nothing.

Shiba Chuanlu, head of the Shiba Clan and one of the Four Great Noble Clans, came out of Hakudo Gate alone without any attendants. His hair was disheveled, his formal clothing hung loosely from his body, and his collar was open. But the sheath of the Zanpakutō at his waist was dark blue, its wrapping cord worn nearly white.

Chōjirō gave a slight bow. "Lord Shiba."

Shiba Chuanlu waved a hand. Without exchanging pleasantries, he walked straight to Shuichi and looked him up and down. "You're Shuichi?"

"Yes."

"Old Man Yamamoto's disciple?"

Shuichi paused. "Captain-Commander Yamamoto taught me Reiatsu control."

The corner of Shiba Chuanlu's mouth lifted slightly. He said nothing more and stepped aside.

Hiro Kuchiki and Kohei Kuchiki exchanged looks. The Shiba Clan head had come personally, while the Kuchiki Clan had sent only two branch-family members. The contrast made them uncomfortable, but neither spoke.

The third group came from the Shihōin Clan.

It was a young woman in fitted black clothes, a short sword at her waist. Her short hair was neat, and her gaze was sharp. Seven or eight people in similar black outfits followed behind her, their steps orderly and clearly trained.

She stopped before Chōjirō and dropped to one knee. "Hachi Clan. Ryouka Hachi. Lord Shihōin ordered me to lead the Hachi Clan into battle."

Chōjirō nodded. "Rise."

Ryouka Hachi stood and stepped aside. Her gaze lingered on Shuichi's face for a moment before quickly moving away.

Leaning against the gate pillar, Shiba Chuanlu watched as everyone gradually arrived. His tone was lazy. "The Shihōin Clan sent an affiliated family. The Kuchiki Clan sent a branch family. The other nobles handed out a pile of weapons and are preparing to clear Quincies from Rukongai and defend the Seireitei. Oh, no—that should be defend their own estates."

He looked at Hiro Kuchiki and Kohei Kuchiki.

"The Kuchiki Clan's people are decent enough. Shame the main family did not come."

Hiro Kuchiki's face darkened, and Kohei Kuchiki's mouth twitched. But neither refuted him. Shiba Chuanlu was the head of the Shiba Clan. Branch-family members had no standing to answer his words.

Standing nearby and watching the scene, Shuichi thought of something. Shiba Chuanlu had said that the other nobles had handed out weapons to clear Quincies from Rukongai and defend the Seireitei.

But defending the Seireitei and defending their own estates were two different things. The nobles could distribute weapons to their subordinates, have them wander through the first few districts of Rukongai, or stand guard by the Seireitei walls, and call that completing their duty. The ones who would truly venture deep into Rukongai and fight the Quincies were only the Gotei 13 and the people before him.

Shiba Chuanlu turned to Shuichi. "Old Man Yamamoto sent you to lead a team west?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever fought in a war?"

"No."

Shiba Chuanlu nodded. "Then stick close. Just do not die."

He turned and walked beyond Hakudo Gate. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back. "We're leaving. Are we waiting for anyone else?"

Hiro Kuchiki and Kohei Kuchiki led their twenty or so people after him. Ryouka Hachi walked over to Shuichi. "The Hachi Clan will follow you."

Shuichi nodded.

Chōjirō left the gate pillar and came to stand beside Shuichi. "Let's go."

The group proceeded west along the stone road.

Shuichi walked in the middle of the group, Chōjirō ahead of him and Shiba Chuanlu at the very front. Shiba Chuanlu walked alone, more than ten steps ahead of the others. The Kuchiki Clan's twenty or so members followed behind, while the eight Hachi Clan members spread out along both sides, keeping watch.

Once they left West District One, Rukongai's scenery began to change. The houses became shorter and more dilapidated. Stone roads turned to dirt paths, and dirt paths became weed-choked trails. There were fewer and fewer wandering souls. Occasionally, they saw one or two, but those souls hid from them from far away.

Reiatsu began to appear.

It came from every direction—some distant, some close, some strong, some weak. Shuichi could sense their presence, scattered densely throughout West Rukongai like stars in the night sky.

Those were Soul Reaper Reiatsu.

Some moved swiftly. Some erupted in place. Some waxed and waned, as though locked in battle. Shuichi could not tell who they belonged to, but he could sense their nature—stable, orderly, carrying the distinctive texture of Soul Reapers. They differed from the chaos of Hollows and the violence of Quincies.

"West District 38."

Chōjirō's voice came from ahead. He did not turn back. "The Fourth Division is clearing it."

Shuichi did not ask how he knew. Chōjirō had helped found the Gotei 13 alongside Yamamoto and knew the Reiatsu characteristics of every division better than anyone.

The group continued west.

More and more Reiatsu appeared. In some districts, five or six Soul Reaper Reiatsu gathered at once. In others, there were only one or two. Shuichi could feel them fighting, their Reiatsu surging fiercely and urgently, like heartbeats, like drumbeats, pounding against his senses again and again.

In West 47th District, he sensed one Reiatsu erupt with extreme violence, then rapidly weaken before vanishing altogether.

It was exactly like the traces of Quincies he had seen in South District 47.

"Someone died," he said quietly.

No one answered. Shiba Chuanlu did not look back, and Chōjirō said nothing. The group continued west in silence.

After passing West District 60, the density of Reiatsu began to decrease. Not because there was less of it, but because it had spread out. Rukongai within District 80 was the main battlefield of the purge. The divisions advanced district by district, their Reiatsu coming from every direction and forming a dense web. But beyond District 60, those Reiatsu began spreading to both sides, like a massive fan opening outward.

Shuichi could sense that the Reiatsu was moving south and north. They were flanking from both sides, driving the Quincies within District 80 toward more distant regions.

West District 70.

West District 75.

West District 78.

West District 79.

There was less and less Reiatsu. Occasionally, he could sense one far away, like beacon fires on the horizon.

West Eightieth District.

The group stopped before a low stone monument. It was not even half a person tall, its surface badly weathered and its edges worn round. Several characters were carved into it. The strokes were deep, but wind and rain had blurred them.

Shuichi stopped and lowered his head to look.

East Branch District, West District.

He froze for a moment. East Branch District? What was that? He had studied Rukongai's divisions at Genji School. The four great regions—east, south, west, and north—each had eighty districts, numbered from one to eighty. He had never heard the name "East Branch District."

"What are you looking at?" Shiba Chuanlu's voice came from ahead.

Shuichi raised his head. "The boundary marker does not say 'West Eightieth District.'"

Shiba Chuanlu did not look back. "That is the old name. Soul Society used to call Rukongai 'East Branch District.' No one calls it that anymore."

He offered no further explanation and continued west.

Shuichi looked once more at the stone marker. East Branch District, West District. The characters had been carved deeply, as if whoever carved them had wanted them to remain there forever. But now, no one cared about them anymore.

He turned and caught up with the group.

Beyond the boundary marker, Reiatsu had almost vanished. It was not completely absent, but sparse to the extreme. Every so often, he could sense a trace of it in the distance, like a candle flame on the verge of going out in the wind.

Then he sensed a burst of Reiatsu.

That Reiatsu came from an extremely distant place ahead, like a mountain pressing down between heaven and earth. It was not Reiatsu he recognized—not Yamamoto's abyssal steadiness, not Chōjirō Sasakibe's needle-like precision, not Unohana's blade-sharp edge. It was wilder, more violent, like a storm, like a tsunami, like something tearing the sky apart.

"Captain Katori," Chōjirō's voice came from ahead, but he still did not turn around.

Shuichi looked ahead. He could not see Bakuzan Katori, nor could he see any trace of battle, but he could feel that Reiatsu moving, erupting, tearing at something. Its fluctuations were violent and dense, like pounding war drums, like rolling thunder, one after another without pause.

She was fighting.

She was not clearing them out. She was crushing them.

Shuichi tightened his grip on the Zanpakutō at his waist and continued west. The group did not stop. Shiba Chuanlu did not look back, and neither did Chōjirō speak. Only that Reiatsu receded farther and farther behind them, growing fainter and fainter until it finally vanished into the wind over the western wasteland.

He looked back once. The boundary marker was already out of sight. In the morning light, the rooftops of West Rukongai had become a thin gray line across the horizon. The Soul Reapers' Reiatsu was still there, dense and flickering, like stars, like beacon fires, like something burning.