Arata's lips lifted slightly; the plan was progressing even more smoothly than he had imagined.
But to be honest, although he knew about the existence of the Western Bureau from the original work and some add-ons, that was only decades later.
He didn't know what the Western Bureau looked like in the present time.
But when he thought about it again, this was just an ordinary diplomatic visit, and with old Yamamoto's backing, there shouldn't be any problems.
After spending the entire afternoon enjoying erotic time with Rangiku on the beach, Arata finally mentioned this "trip" to her during dinner.
He expected Rangiku to complain, but her reaction completely surprised him.
"That's great!" Rangiku exclaimed excitedly and jumped from the dining chair, her long golden hair drawing a shimmering arc under the chandelier.
Finally, she didn't have to deal with Arata, the ox who never gets tired!
In Soul Society, there is a well-known saying from the human world: there is no field that's been plowed to death, only oxen that are exhausted to death.
Rangiku despised that saying because whoever came up with it surely had never seen a real, truly strong ox!
Arata's steak fork and knife paused mid-air, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "You're that happy?"
Hey, your man is going on a business trip with a mature, beautiful woman. Is this really the appropriate reaction?!
"Of course!" Rangiku leaned over and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek, a sly gleam playing in her gray eyes.
"You're going with Captain Unohana on official business, so I can't possibly interfere with Soul Society's diplomatic affairs, right?"
"Ahem…" Arata's ears tingled slightly, as if there was something more behind those words.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sneakily glanced at Unohana Retsu, who was dining alone a little further away. She was calmly slicing cod on her plate; her long white legs, occasionally visible through the slit of her dark green cheongsam dress, were crossed under the tablecloth. As if she didn't care at all about the conversation happening here.
When the wall clock struck seven twenty-five, Arata had already put on the black suit prepared for him by the Department of Technology Development.
According to Captain Yamamoto, people from the Western Bureau were used to holding meetings in modern suits, so showing up in Shinigami uniforms would be inappropriate.
Rangiku was kneeling on the bed helping him adjust his collar. Her fingertips brushed against his Adam's apple, causing his breath to hitch for a moment.
"Just don't forget to bring me a souvenir." She suddenly lowered her voice, her warm breath touching his ear. "If I find out you secretly bought something suspicious for Captain Unohana…"
Arata grabbed her wrist and asked, "Like what?"
"For example…" Rangiku's gaze pointedly moved over the unopened bottle of champagne on the nightstand, "something just right for a man and a woman to drink together late at night."
Arata caught her chin with his fingers and ran his thumb over the teeth marks she had left the night before. "You… what have you been thinking about all day?"
"About you, of course~" She laughed, slipped out of his grip, and shoved the communicator into his pocket. "Come on, hurry up, Captain Yamamoto will get mad if you're late."
…
The night breeze on the rooftop carried the scent of sea salt. Kurotsuchi Mayuri was crouching next to a red telephone booth, adjusting some instrument.
Yamamoto Genryūsai stood under the moonlight leaning on his cane, and behind him stood Sasakibe Chōjirō with a folder in his hands.
When Arata stepped onto the final stair, Unohana Retsu appeared from the other side of the staircase.
The dark green cheongsam dress she had worn before was replaced by a black skirt suit, and her braid hung calmly over her chest.
The moonlight bathed her body in a cold, glazed aura, making her look resolute and elegant, completely different from her lazy, seductive daytime appearance.
"Everyone's here." Yamamoto handed Arata a briefcase with a golden seal. "This visit is primarily a cultural exchange. Keep in mind not to interfere with the internal affairs of the Western Bureau."
"Understood, Captain." Arata nodded seriously.
Although the Western and Eastern Bureaus were nominally both under the jurisdiction of Soul Society, their relationship wasn't as close as one might think.
Aside from regular information exchanges and occasional diplomatic visits, they essentially didn't meddle in each other's internal affairs.
Kurotsuchi Mayuri grinned wickedly and handed them a silver coin engraved with complex patterns. It bore four English letters – [SSWB].
In translation, that meant [Soul Society Western Branch].
"You'll insert this coin into the booth and you'll be able to enter Inner London, where the headquarters of the Western Bureau is located. But do not use your spiritual pressure during the passage," Mayuri warned strictly.
Arata and Unohana Retsu nodded and entered the red telephone booth together.
Perhaps because it was originally designed for one person, the inside of the booth was surprisingly cramped.
Arata's back was pressed against the cold glass, and when Unohana Retsu turned, the hem of her skirt brushed against his calves.
The scent of her perfume mixed with the subtle smell of medicinal herbs fermented in the tight space, and he had to hold his breath briefly so as not to inhale too much of it.
"Are you nervous, Arata–kun?" Unohana Retsu suddenly spoke, tapping his tense shoulder with her fingertips.
"No, just… not used to such a small space." Arata inserted the coin into the slot, and the sound of metal striking metal echoed clearly like a bell.
In the next moment, the entire booth shook violently.
Waves like ripples appeared on the outer glass, and the night view of the living world began to distort and disappear like a melting oil painting.
At the same time as the sensation of weightlessness overtook him, a cold hand covered the back of Arata's hand.
"Hold on tight." Unohana Retsu's voice pierced through the roar of spatial turbulence and etched itself deeply into Arata's mind.
Countless colorful light trails swirled around, and Arata felt as though all his internal organs were spinning in a centrifuge.
Just when it seemed like he would vomit, the trembling suddenly stopped.
The booth door slid open on its own, and the scent of rotting wood and old books hit his nostrils.
Before his eyes appeared a hall in full Victorian style.
From the dome-like ceiling hung a crystal chandelier; warm yellow light refracted through hundreds of prisms, turning into a mesmerizing halo.
The walls were covered in dark red rose-patterned wallpaper, and every few steps hung a lavishly framed portrait.
A deep blue carpet embroidered with golden runes stretched through the center of the hall all the way to the double oak doors on the other side.
On the sides stood richly carved walnut display cases showcasing various pocket watches, monocles, and silver tea sets.
Most striking of all was a massive grandfather clock at the end of the hall. The swing of its pendulum echoed especially clearly in the empty space, as if counting down some unspeakable time.
"Welcome, esteemed guests from the Eastern Bureau." a deep and elegant male voice suddenly echoed.
Arata looked toward the direction the voice came from and saw a white-haired old man in a black tailcoat standing at the corner of the staircase.
He wore a monocle with a golden frame, leaned on a cane with a snake-shaped head in his right hand, and held his left hand behind his back; his posture was as noble as that of an old aristocrat.
"My name is Manokil Slachuhout, deputy captain of the Personnel and Divine Punishment Department of the Western Bureau."
The old man slowly descended the stairs, the tip of his cane rhythmically tapping against the marble floor.
"By the order of Captain Wolfgang, I've come to receive you."
"I've heard of you for a long time." Unohana Retsu gracefully bowed, her braid swaying slightly with the motion.
"My name is Unohana Retsu, current captain of the 4th Division of Gotei 13, Soul Society."
"Saitō Arata, currently a professor at the Spiritual Arts Academy of Soul Society."
Arata introduced himself briefly, his eyes discreetly scanning every corner of the hall.
The inside of this building was much larger than it appeared from the outside.
Besides the main hall, on each side stretched a long corridor, at the end of which faintly loomed more closed doors.
The most attention-grabbing feature, however, was the ceiling mural – it didn't depict a traditional religious motif, but rather a group of humanoid beings wielding various weapons fighting against distorted shadows.
As if they were…
dragons?