Departure

First Division Central Hall

This was Shuichi's first time entering this room.

The main hall was already large, but the Shin'ō 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 orchid of the Thirteenth Division. Thirteen varieties of flowers stretched across the pale gold ceiling, their branches and leaves intertwined.

A huge map of the Seireitei hung on the front wall, taking up nearly the entire surface.

Vermilion lines marked the eighty districts of Rukongai on the map. In each of the four directions—east, south, west, and north—the lines had been drawn perfectly straight.

The walls on both sides were bare, nothing but stark white.

The Gotei 13 had only been established for a few decades. There was no such thing as "successive generations" yet.

In the center of the hall, Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto stood before the map, both hands resting on Ryujin Jakka. The tip of its scabbard 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 walked ahead, he naturally left Shuichi half a step behind him.

Twelve captains entered in two lines.

Shihōin Qianri walked at the front. Dark-skinned and silver-haired, he moved with 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 framed his face, and his expression was blank. He stopped beside Qianri.

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

Danjiro Obana strode in with great strides. Bearded and dressed in blue, he stopped beside Chikiri and folded his arms.

Furoufushi Saito bounced into the hall, her purple hair tied into twin tails and a black eyepatch over one eye. She stopped beside Obana, tilted her head, and glanced toward Shuichi.

Nobutsuna Shigyo's steps were steady and powerful. His short black hair was covered by a headscarf, his hands were black, and thick fur wrapped around his neck. He stopped opposite Qianri, exhaling a wisp of white breath even though the Shin'ō Hall was not cold.

Bakuzan Katori adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses, her braid swaying lightly behind her. She was not tall, and she stopped 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 was completely expressionless. He stopped beside Kumenoi, arms hanging at his sides without moving an inch.

Yachiru Unohana's long, straight black hair fell behind her shoulders. She stopped 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 withered, hunched, and wrinkled, even older than Yamamoto. Leaning on his wooden-hilted Zanpakutō, he walked in step by step and stopped beside Zenteiji Yūbin, both hands resting on his sword.

The twelve captains stood in two rows.

The doors of the Shin'ō Hall slowly closed.

Yamamoto spoke.

His voice was not loud, yet it echoed through the empty hall. Every word was perfectly 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 scabbard pointed at different regions on the map.

"Thirteenth Division, maintain the Hollow eradication operations in the World of the Living and Soul Society. Your current mission remains unchanged, but patrol frequency must increase. The loss of Reishi caused by Hollows in the World of the Living being destroyed by Quincy cannot be allowed to grow any further."

Saizo Sakigane opened his eyes and nodded.

"Twelfth Division, remain behind to support 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 the coordination between divisions."

Zenteiji Yūbin gave a low response.

"Yes."

Yamamoto's scabbard pointed toward the southern side of the map.

"Eleventh Division, conduct eradication operations beyond South Eightieth District. Unohana, lead the Eleventh Division deep beyond South Eightieth District and return within one month."

Yachiru Unohana gave a slight nod.

"Tenth Division, conduct eradication operations beyond East Eightieth District. Wang Tuchuan, return within one month."

Wang Tuchuan Yuxuji answered briefly.

"Yes."

"Ninth Division, conduct eradication operations beyond North Eightieth District. Kumenoi, return within one month."

Entetsu Kumenoi smiled.

"Understood."

"Eighth Division, conduct eradication operations beyond West Eightieth District. Katori, return within one month."

Bakuzan Katori adjusted her glasses and gave a light nod.

Yamamoto drew back his scabbard and pointed it toward the inner districts of Rukongai on the map.

"Seventh Division, 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. Eradicate them district by district. Leave no blind spots. Within one month, no Quincy activity may remain 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 eradicate Quincy in the east. Qianri, your Second Division will eradicate Quincy in the west. Quincy activity in the World of the Living is no less extensive than in Rukongai, and it is even more concealed. This old man does 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, its scabbard tip touching the floor once more.

Then he turned his head and looked at Shuichi.

"Shuichi."

"Here."

"According to intelligence, the Quincy came from the west. Lead the official 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. Return within one month."

Shuichi froze for a moment.

Lead a team deep into the west and determine the location of the Quincy base.

He glanced at Chōjirō. Chōjirō's expression did not change.

"Chōjirō will go with you," Yamamoto added.

"Yes."

Yamamoto's gaze swept over the twelve captains before finally settling on the huge map.

"One month. This old man does not care what methods you use. In one month, Quincy activity in Rukongai and the World of the Living must cease."

He paused.

"Dismissed!"

The captains saluted Yamamoto in turn, then turned and headed out of the Shin'ō Hall. Their footsteps echoed through the empty hall, going from dense to sparse, from loud to indistinct.

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

Chōjirō came over from the right and stopped beside him.

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

Shuichi nodded.

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

...The following 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. Stone pillars towered on either side, and ancient Reishi patterns were carved into the lintel, glowing faint blue in the morning light. Beyond the gate, the stone road stretched west through West District One, through dozens of Rukongai districts, all the way to lands without human habitation.

Chōjirō stood beside a gate pillar with his arms folded and his eyes closed, as if resting. Shuichi stood half a step behind him, the Zanpakutō at his waist swaying lightly in the morning breeze. Dawn had only just 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 some twenty young people dressed as lower nobles. Their armor was neat, the scabbards at their waists all standard issue. Their steps were not especially synchronized, but at least they were not sloppy. The leading man approached Chōjirō and bowed slightly.

"Hiro Kuchiki, of the Kuchiki Clan."

He pointed to the man beside him. "Kohei Kuchiki. The clan head ordered us to lead the lower 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 have Zanpakutō. But these blades were specially made by the Kasumioji Clan. They are no worse than Zanpakutō."

Chōjirō did not press further. Standing behind him, Shuichi looked over the equipment of the twenty-odd men. It truly was not bad. The patterns on their armor were the Kuchiki Clan crest, the bronze fittings on their scabbards had been polished brightly, and each person had a Reishi Communicator at their waist. Even if the Kuchiki Clan had sent only branch family members, their equipment would not be shabby.

But no one from the main family had come.

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

Shiba Chuanlu, head of the Shiba Clan, one of the Four Great Noble Clans, came out from within Hakudo Gate alone without attendants. His hair was messy, his formal clothes hung loosely on him, and his collar was open. Yet the scabbard of his Zanpakutō was dark blue, its wrapping cord worn pale.

Chōjirō bowed slightly. "Lord Shiba."

Shiba Chuanlu waved a hand. Without exchanging pleasantries, he walked straight up to Shuichi and looked him over. "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 moved to the side.

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 comparison made them uncomfortable, but neither spoke.

The third group was from the Shihōin Clan.

It was a young woman dressed in tight black clothing, with a short blade at her waist. Her short hair was neat, her gaze sharp, and seven or eight people in the same black attire followed behind her. Their steps were orderly; they had clearly been trained.

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

Chōjirō nodded. "Rise."

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

Leaning against a gate pillar, Shiba Chuanlu watched as people gradually arrived. His tone was lazy. "The Shihōin Clan sent a subordinate clan, the Kuchiki Clan sent branch family members, and the other nobles handed out a pile of weapons to prepare for Quincy eradication in Rukongai and the defense of the Seireitei. Oh, no. They are defending their own estates."

He glanced at Hiro Kuchiki and Kohei Kuchiki.

"The Kuchiki Clan's people are of decent quality. Too bad the main family did not come."

Hiro Kuchiki's expression 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, Shuichi watched the scene and thought about what Shiba Chuanlu had said: "The other nobles handed out a pile of weapons to go to Rukongai, eradicate Quincy, and defend the Seireitei."

But defending the Seireitei and defending their own estates were two different things. The nobles could hand weapons to their subordinates, have them wander around the first few districts of Rukongai, or station them by the Seireitei walls, and call their mission complete. The ones who would truly go deep into Rukongai and fight the Quincy 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 stay close. Just don't die."

He turned and walked out through 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-odd people after him. Ryouka Hachi walked over to Shuichi's side. "The Hachi Clan will follow you."

Shuichi nodded.

Chōjirō walked over from the gate pillar and stood beside Shuichi. "Let's go."

The group marched west along the stone road.

Shuichi walked in the middle of the group. Chōjirō was ahead of him, while Shiba Chuanlu walked alone at the very front, more than ten paces ahead of everyone else. The twenty-odd Kuchiki members followed behind, and the eight Hachi Clan members spread out along the sides, keeping watch.

After they left West District One, the scenery of Rukongai began to change. Houses became lower and more dilapidated. Streets turned from stone roads to dirt paths, then from dirt paths to weed-choked trails. Fewer and fewer wandering souls could be seen, and the occasional one would hide from afar.

Reiatsu began to appear.

It came from every direction. Some were distant, some close, some strong, some weak. Shuichi could sense their presence, like stars in the night sky, densely scattered across every region of West Rukongai.

Those were Soul Reaper Reiatsu.

Some moved rapidly, some erupted in place, and some surged and weakened erratically, as if locked in combat. Shuichi could not tell who they belonged to, but he could sense their nature—stable, patterned, carrying the distinctive texture of Soul Reapers, unlike the chaos of Hollows or the violence of Quincy.

"West District Thirty-Eight."

Chōjirō's voice came from ahead without him turning around. "The Fourth Division is conducting eradication operations."

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

The group continued west.

More and more Reiatsu filled the air. In some districts, five or six Soul Reaper Reiatsu gathered together; in others, only one or two could be sensed. Shuichi could feel them fighting. Their Reiatsu fluctuated fiercely and rapidly, like heartbeats, like drumbeats, striking against his senses again and again.

In West District Forty-Seven, he sensed a Reiatsu that erupted with extreme force, then rapidly weakened before vanishing altogether.

It was exactly like the traces of Quincy he had seen in South District Forty-Seven.

"Someone died," he said softly.

No one answered. Shiba Chuanlu did not look back, nor did Chōjirō speak. The group continued west in silence.

After West District Sixty, the density of Reiatsu began to fall. It was not that there was less of it, but that it had spread out. Within Rukongai's eighty districts lay the main battlefield of the eradication operation. The divisions advanced district by district, Reiatsu coming from every direction in a dense net. But after District Sixty, those Reiatsu began spreading to both sides, like an enormous fan opening.

Shuichi could sense those Reiatsu moving south and north. They were encircling from both flanks, driving the Quincy within the eighty districts toward more distant regions.

West District Seventy.

West District Seventy-Five.

West District Seventy-Eight.

West District Seventy-Nine.

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

West District Eighty.

The group stopped before a low stone stele. It was not even half a person's height, its surface badly weathered and its edges worn round. Several words were carved upon it, their strokes deep but blurred by wind and rain.

Shuichi stopped and lowered his head for a look.

East Branch District, West Sector.

He froze. East Branch District? What was that? He had studied Rukongai's divisions at the Genji School: the four great regions of east, south, west, and north, each with 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 District Eighty.'"

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

He offered no further explanation and continued west.

Shuichi looked once more at the stone stele. East Branch District, West Sector. The words on its surface had been carved deeply, as if the person who carved them wanted them to remain there forever. But now, no one cared about them anymore.

He turned and caught up with the group.

After crossing the boundary marker, Reiatsu had almost vanished. It was not completely absent, merely sparse to the extreme. Every so often, he could sense a trace of it far away, like a candle flame about to go out in the wind.

Then he felt a burst of Reiatsu.

That Reiatsu came from an incredibly distant place ahead, like a mountain bearing down between heaven and earth. It was not Reiatsu he recognized—not Yamamoto's deep, steady presence, 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 open the sky.

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

Shuichi stared 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 fierce and dense, like war drums, like 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 Chōjirō Sasakibe said nothing. Only that Reiatsu grew farther and farther away behind them, increasingly faint, 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 stretching across the horizon. The Soul Reapers' Reiatsu was still there, dense and flickering, like stars, like beacon fires, like something burning.