Aizen

At the Fifth Division Barracks, in the lieutenant's office.

Sōsuke Aizen sat alone at his desk. Moonlight streamed through the paper window, casting a cool glow across his glasses.

His fingers tapped lightly against the desktop, producing a soft, rhythmic sound.

"Wang Xun..."

He murmured the name.

The conversation on the training ground that afternoon replayed clearly in his mind.

The white-haired boy's flawless expression, subtle movements, and cautious answers.

"His spiritual might was around the twelfth rank, but it fluctuated slightly. It's hard to say whether he was deliberately hiding it."

"His Shakkahō incantation was precise, but his spiritual pressure output was a little lacking. It seems he deliberately reduced its power."

"When invited by a lieutenant, he looked delighted, only to hesitate and refuse. It's possible he has his heart set on another division, but it still seemed a little deliberate."

Aizen picked up his teacup and took a small sip.

"What are you hiding, Wang Xun?"

He rose and walked to the window, looking in the direction of Shin'ō Academy.

Aizen's thoughts drifted back many years.

At the time, he had still been an ordinary member of the Fifth Division.

Exceptionally gifted, but never one to show it.

He completed every mission just well enough: never so poorly as to draw complaints, nor so well as to attract attention.

He carefully controlled his performance, like a spider lurking in the shadows, quietly spinning its web.

Until he mastered Kyōka Suigetsu.

Until he discovered the Hōgyoku's secret.

"Come to think of it, he's rather like me."

Aizen murmured to himself, his gaze deep.

"Hiding, observing, and responding appropriately at the right moment."

"I wonder just how much you're truly capable of."

Aizen returned to his desk and turned to another page of the report.

It recorded all of Wang Xun's results during his five years at the academy.

His past results in swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, movement, and Kidō were listed in detail, along with his grades in theoretical and academic courses.

Overall evaluation: below average in the elite class, but with the potential for steady improvement.

Aizen chuckled softly.

He recalled their encounter in the valley in West District 2 a few days ago.

Had he really not noticed us then?

Aizen still had his doubts.

If he had noticed them, how had he done it?

"An unusually keen perception of spiritual energy fluctuations from Kidō? No, it doesn't seem that way... Could he have sensed the Hōgyoku's power?"

Aizen adjusted his glasses, a dangerous glint flashing in the eyes behind the lenses.

Either possibility warranted further observation.

And observation required getting closer.

More than that, it required a little test.

The moonlight shifted, illuminating his serene profile.

His expression was as gentle as ever.

But now it held a hint of amusement.

The Third Seat of the Fifth Division also served as the head of Shin'ō Academy, so as the Fifth Division's lieutenant, Aizen could naturally look into certain academy arrangements with ease.

He pulled out the Spiritual Arts Academy's schedule for the current term.

"Soul burial practicum in the World of the Living, fifth-year elite class, three weeks from now."

In the World of the Living, the appearance of Hollows was unpredictable, making it the ideal place to arrange an accident.

Aizen picked up a pen and wrote something on a note.

With a creak, the office door swung open.

Aizen unobtrusively set the note aside, and by the time he looked up at his visitor, his gentle smile was already in place.

"Captain Hirako, haven't you gone to bed yet? It's so late."

Shinji Hirako leaned against the doorframe, his long blond hair shining coldly in the moonlight.

He tilted his head and studied Aizen with that distinctive gaze of his, slightly languid yet sharp.

"You're still up yourself, Lieutenant Aizen."

Hirako drew out his words as he sauntered inside.

"What paperwork has our paperwork dragon working so hard all night to finish it? Want me to help?"

He walked to the desk, picked up the document listing Shin'ō Academy's arrangements for the current term, and looked through it.

"Just some routine arrangements for the Spiritual Arts Academy's practicum, Captain Hirako."

Aizen smiled.

"You shouldn't have to trouble yourself with such trifles."

Hirako read through it and found nothing amiss.

His eyes flickered, and he placed the document on the desk, paying no attention to the conspicuous note beside it.

Just like Kyōka Suigetsu.

Hirako withdrew his hand and tucked it into the sleeve of his shihakushō.

"Trifles? Nothing involving the students' safety is a trifle."

He snorted.

"Besides, things haven't been peaceful in Rukongai or the World of the Living lately. More souls have been disappearing for no reason. Who knows if those idiots in the Tenth Division responsible for security patrols are actually doing their jobs?"

He walked halfway around the desk, finally stopping opposite Aizen. He leaned forward, his usually half-lidded eyes now fully open and staring straight at Aizen.

"I heard there was a big fire in West District 2 of Rukongai. The Twelfth Division sent people to investigate and found abnormal spiritual pressure fluctuations. Unfortunately, they couldn't find out who did it."

Aizen's brows furrowed slightly, his expression solemn.

"That is troubling. Perhaps a Soul Reaper was privately practicing Kidō there and caused it by accident."

"Could be."

Hirako straightened up, his tone not directed at anyone in particular.

"Speaking of which, there have been far more cases of Hollows attacking Soul Reapers and souls in Rukongai lately. Strangely enough, our support squad always receives word a little late for some inexplicable reason."

"That really is a failure on our part. The Captain-Commander even called me in specifically to chew me out. Tell me, why do you think that is, Aizen..."

"My apologies, Captain Hirako. I'll do my best to find out where things went wrong. It won't happen again."

A brief silence fell between them. The air in the office seemed to freeze, with only the clock on the wall ticking away.

Hirako stared at Aizen for a long time before suddenly clicking his tongue.

"Forget it."

He turned and headed for the door.

"Aizen, you'd better remember: do your work honestly and conscientiously, and I won't give you trouble."

He stopped in the doorway and turned his head. Moonlight illuminated half his face, while the other half lay in shadow.

"But if you really are plotting something that would harm Soul Society, I'll drag you out myself."

With that, he pulled the door open and walked out.

Aizen remained seated, the smile gradually fading from his face.

He took off his glasses, pulled a piece of velvet from inside his robes, and leisurely wiped the lenses.

The lenses were clean as new, reflecting his calm eyes.

"Captain Hirako," Aizen murmured, "your intuition is as sharp as ever..."

Unfortunately, intuition could not serve as evidence.

He put his glasses back on, finished writing the note, carefully folded it, and placed it in a special envelope.

There were no markings on the envelope, but he knew that by tomorrow morning, the letter would be in the hands of someone at his disposal.

He had already drawn up the special arrangements for the fifth-years' practicum in the World of the Living.

After doing all this, Aizen walked over to the full-length mirror in his office.

In the mirror, he was neatly dressed and wore a gentle expression. Anyone who saw him would think he was a humble, reliable leader and companion.

The moonlight shifted, illuminating the entire mirror.

In the mirror, the corners of Aizen's mouth curved subtly upward.

Outside the mirror, Aizen still wore that gentle smile.

Inside and outside the mirror, the images overlapped.

Impossible to tell apart.